Preference
by Kasigi Omi
Summary: Trowa tries to explain why a recent purchase has made him thoughtful. 3&4 implied


Disclaimer: Not my characters. Just playing around with them. Doing a bit of character study here. Forgive me if something seems a bit OOC.

Preference

"Trowa, are you alright?" Quatre asked somewhat tentatively, poking his head in the room he had assigned his… for lack of a better term or proper opportunity, friend.

The taller former pilot was sprawled across the Queen size bed in a position that would have been inelegant on anyone else. "I'm fine," he answered simply.

"That's good." Pushing the door completely open, Quatre invited himself in, ending perched on the corner of the bed. If Trowa minded the intrusion, he didn't show any sign of it. "You just holed yourself up in here when we got back from the store and I've not heard anything from you since. I see you put the new sheets on the bed." One hand lightly caressed the soft green fabric. Quatre smiled faintly, once again pleased at the color choice. It really did make Trowa's beautiful eyes stand out.

"Yes, I put them on."

Sometimes the stoic pilot drove Quatre mad with his remarks. So often he would state only the obvious, and though Quatre could sense there was more to the words, little elaboration was ever forthcoming. "They look nice, though you really could have gone with a higher thread count if you wanted."

"No. These are fine."

"I know, I know. You're a soldier and always have been and you don't need the extra luxury."

One of Trowa's eyebrows quirked and he propped himself up on an elbow to regard Quatre more directly. "You make me sound like Heero."

"Well, you remind me of him," Quatre retorted, still slightly annoyed, though falling more into teasing. "Only he talks more."

Trowa actually chuckled softly at that for a few moments, which made Quatre smile fondly at him all irritation completely forgotten. "I'll grant you that," he finally said. "I can be a bit quiet sometimes."

"Sometimes?" the blond scoffed, now entirely jesting.

"Understood. Point taken. Very well, then. It seems I vexed you with my replies somehow. What did you want to hear?"

His curious mind was quick to supply him with words. "Why were you just laying there like that if you were fine?"

"I was thinking." At a mock glare from Quatre, he gave in and went on. "The sheets are green, Quatre."

"Yes. They match your eye color wonderfully."

"Do they?" Trowa blinked those lovely eyes a few times in bemusement. "I hadn't realized. I just picked them… because I liked them."

Quatre could sense that that was the crux of the matter, and within a few moments he had his hypothesis. "And you were thinking about how novel it was to pick anything for no reason beyond liking it."

Green eyes studied him for a long moment, and then his head ducked in a nod. "Yes. Exactly. I was wondering if there has ever been anything else I procured for just that reason, and I can't think of a single instance."

"That's rather sad."

"Not particularly. It was just the life of a soldier." The taller youth slid his elbow away and allowed himself to fall back on the bed again. Quatre simply watched him thoughtfully. "It will be odd, adapting to a world in which my own preference plays a part. I suppose I'll have to finally find out what, exactly, my preferences are."

After thinking for a few moments, Quatre ventured another question. "Did choosing to stay with me have any sort of practical or military value?"

A long silence followed and the Arabian youth waited patiently for Trowa to consider how to reply.

"You refuse to let me pay rent, and I can live a life of luxury here. However, this is counterbalanced by the distance I'll have to go to get to work every day, which I would not have had to deal with had I moved in with Heero."

He sat up abruptly then, pulling his legs up and tucking them to his chest. Quatre couldn't help but notice how close the other was. He could even smell the faint scent of soap on Trowa's skin and he feared he was blushing.

"So, all things considered," Trowa continued blandly, "It would seem that my choice to lodge with you was a preference after all."

And the way those green eyes locked on his face, Quatre could hardly doubt exactly what that preference could easily mean. Now he –was- blushing, but he doubted Trowa minded much.


End file.
